


Vitamins

by Dopredo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Glee
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Inhumans (Marvel), M/M, Soulmates, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24678106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dopredo/pseuds/Dopredo
Summary: Everything is perfect in the life of Kurt and Blaine, until Kurt starts force-feeding Blaine fish oil. At first Blaine’s only problem is stomach cramps, but neither one of them is prepared for the changes that are about to occur…FitzSimmons, on the other hand have been dealing with this kind of thing for years. But can they keep a broken relationship from fragmenting, whilst still protecting their own?
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Kurt Hummel & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Deke Shaw & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Kudos: 4





	1. Maybe I Should Curtsey

Kurt had always been a bit of a fuss about vitamins. Blaine knew that he meant well, but he couldn’t help but feel it was all a bit unnecessary. Fish oil was great for people with dry skin, but Blaine moisturised! Also, he was sure he was having some kind of bad reaction to it… Every time he had one of the lumpy brown pills forced (it may as well have been literally) down his throat, he would get stomach cramps for hours afterwards. When he mentioned this one morning, Kurt just shrugged it off.

“Look, Blaine, I’m only trying to help you out. You won’t stay twenty-two forever,” he huffed, grabbing his coat from the hanger. “But at least if you take the fish oil your skin won’t be hanging off of you by the time you’re forty.”

“Wait, are you saying I have dry skin?” Blaine pouted.

Kurt rolled his eyes and slid into his bright green coat. “Of course not! And I’ve checked _everywhere_ …” Blaine raised an eyebrow flirtily as Kurt pulled him into a kiss. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t regret not taking your vitamins!”

As Blaine struggled to grasp the triple negative, Kurt rushed in for a quick ‘goodbye’ embrace and then flew out of the door.

Blaine sighed, shook his head and then gulped down the pill.

***

“Jemma! Help!”

Fitz’s panicked cry echoed across the house like a gunshot. Fitz groaned in pain as Simmons rushed across from the other side of the house.

“Fitz?” she gasped, “What’s going on?”

“I-I’m trapped…”

It was then that Simmons noticed the overturned table that Fitz was half-carrying, half-buried underneath.

“Oh, Fitz,” Simmons sighed, shaking her head. “What made you think you were strong enough to carry that?” She grabbed the other side of the table and heaved it towards her while Fitz struggled out from underneath.

“What do you mean?” Fitz grumbled, blushing slightly. “I _am_ strong enough to carry it… I just… tripped.”

Simmons raised an eyebrow, trying to stifle a giggle. What was it with men and their silk masculinity? Fitz paused for a second, perhaps considering the same thing. “But… erm… thanks for saving me,” he grinned, the blush deepening considerably.

“I would’ve thought you’d be used to it by now,” Simmons laughed, dusting off his jumper. “That’s just how I seem to spend my time.”

“Ok, ok… I’m a bit of a lost lamb…” At that moment, catching a glance of his watch, his face twisted into panic. “Jemma! We’re late! For the meeting!”

“What meeting?”

“The one where we’re supposed to be picking up that new inhuman!”

Recognition flooded Simmons’ face and she jumped towards the counter to grab her bag and coat. Fitz took off in the other direction to retrieve his shoes.

“Oh Fitz,” Simmons squealed, “we’re never going to hear the end of this…”

***

The stomach cramps were worse than usual this time, although Blaine thought maybe that was because he was thinking about it. He was still slightly grumpy at Kurt for dismissing him so easily, and was even grumpier at himself for letting him get away with it.

By mid-morning, Blaine had decided the cramps weren’t just in his head. In fact, they had intensified so much he was feeling really nauseous. Climbing up the stairs slowly, he clawed for his phone in his back pocket and dialled in Kurt’s number.

“Straight to voicemail, typical,” he groaned, noticing a slight croak in his voice. “Wow, maybe I really am coming down with something,” he frowned. The voicemail answerphone came up and Blaine coughed. “Hey, Kurt… Just thought I would let you know… I’m calling in sick today. I’m feeling pretty – jeez!” Blaine cut himself off, keeling over in pain. “This must be what pregnancy feels like!” he hissed through gritted teeth, plopping to the floor and hugging his belly tightly.

But then something else was happening. The cramps eased as, what looked like, liquid tar crawled across every surface of Blaine’s skin. Barely having the time to consider what was happening, a piercing screech escaped from Blaine’s lips.

And then, nothing.

_“If you would like to re-record your message, key hash at any time…”_

***

“Hey, Kurt…” Kurt’s boss, Mr Bolman, stuck his fingers in the elevator door and beckoned for Kurt to join him. Kurt (who had avoided elevators since a certain event involving Sue Sylvester had scarred him) approached him nervously. “Do you want to join me?” he smiled cheerfully, totally oblivious to the flashbacks taking place in Kurt’s head. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Kurt gulped anxiously, but smiled nonetheless, stepping into the lift. “Of course, Sir,” he smiled, and then his eyes widened. “I’m not it trouble am I?” he said quickly.

Mr Bolman chuckled, and his second chin wobbled slightly. “No, don’t worry! Actually, it’s a good thing. I want to offer you a promotion…”

The elevator jolted and started its decent and Kurt exhaled slowly. “A promotion?” he asked, curiously. “I’m flattered, but I thought there were no opportunities for a pay rise?”

“That is correct,” Mr Bolman nodded, “but I applied you for this job because it involves Broadway.”

Hearing the word Broadway, Kurt’s ears pricked up like a dog that just heard the food bowl rattle. “B-Broadway?” he grinned. “What would I be—?”

“It’s an assistant role, for the most recent showing of _In The Heights_. But they told me it could progress to something more. Of course, you would have to keep working at ASER studios in the evenings, so if you agree, you’re going to be a busy man…”

At that point, Kurt’s phone rang. He frowned and took it out of his pocket, blushing slightly when he saw it was Blaine.

“You can take it if you like—”

“No. It’s… not important.” He declined the call quickly. “We always call in lunch break, he’s just a little early. Sorry, continue.”

Mr Bolman and Kurt talked for a further fifteen minutes about the promotion, before Kurt began to worry a little. Blaine hadn’t called him back, and now it was well past the time they would usually call – had he upset him by declining the call?

Kurt politely ended the conversation with Mr Bolman and then headed into his office to call Blaine. As soon as he turned his phone on, he saw the voice message from Blaine. Bile began to rise in his throat – he had a bad feeling about this, a really bad feeling.

“He’s fine, Kurt. He probably just broke the dishwasher again,” he whispered to himself, wondering why this was worrying him so much. It was just a voice message…

He clicked on the button and held the phone up to his ear.

_“Hey, Kurt… Just thought I would let you know… I’m calling in sick today. I’m feeling pretty – jeez!”_ Kurt inhaled harshly at the sound of Blaine in pain. There was a moment of silence over the answerphone and then—

A scream. Blaine’s scream.

Frozen and disorientated, Kurt listened as the message cut off.

***

Tears of panic welled in Kurt’s eyes as he prised open the front door. After calling Blaine back seven times, to no response, he had driven home in under ten minutes (a journey that should have taken half an hour), all the while desperately listening for a call from Blaine to tell he him he was ok.

“Blaine!” Kurt yelled, almost ripping the door off its hinges. “Blaine, where—!”

And then Kurt noticed the thing on the stairs. That weird, twisted grey blob that, if you looked closely, vaguely resembled a human being.

Stunned, Kurt inhaled in a way that almost sounded like _“What?”_

Kurt’s voice trembled as he found it again. “Blaine, where are you” he whispered. And then, hysterically “BLAINE!” Kurt fell to the floor, sobbing, but unable to take his eyes off of the thing on the stairs.

“He can hear you, you don’t need to shout,” a gravelly female voice from behind him said dryly.

Kurt spun on his knees, but the owner of the voice was faster. He had barely turned halfway when he heard the bang. It took him a moment to register that something had hit him on the shoulder, but then the world around him blurred. Kurt’s body drifted away from him as his muscles numbed, and then his brain drifted too.

The last thing he remembered was the Queen making a speech… _Maybe I should curtsey?_ He thought.

“You can’t just leave him,” The Queen cooed. “He’ll totally freak out…”

_No, I won’t, Your Majesty_. _I promise._ _I’ll never leave Blaine… we’re in love…_

And then everything drifted away.


	2. The Anchor

Lights. Not where they should be. Blaine squinted through the blinding sea of LEDs, trying to make out something that vaguely resembled his home. After all, that was where he was, right? The last thing he remembered was calling Kurt… and then that cramp – like nothing he’d ever felt before.

Blaine rubbed his eyes and suddenly everything came into blurry focus. The room he was sitting in was void of all furniture and decoration. And it was bright white. For a second Blaine considered that he had tripped and fallen down the stairs, and now he was in hospital. But this wasn’t like any hospital he had ever seen; there were no doctors or nurses, there was no _bed_. And Kurt wasn’t here.

“Kurt,” he said out loud, noticing the gravel in his voice that came from underuse. “I need to see Kurt,” he croaked to no one.

***

“You can’t just leave him,” Simmons cooed. “He’ll totally freak out…”

Daisy Johnson raised an eyebrow at the heap that was Kurt Hummel and sighed. “You’re probably right… but I don’t want to have to deal with him. New people always whine so much.” She drew out the last few syllables with a pout.

“Hey, you’re forgetting how many questions _you_ asked in your first week,” Fitz chuckled, appearing in the doorway behind them. “I brought a stretcher,” he beamed at them, holding up a thin piece of material that looked as though it could barely support a five-year-old, let alone a fully-grown man.

Simmons and Daisy looked at each other and then back at Fitz.

“You’re kidding, right?” Daisy snorted.

Fitz, looking slightly hurt, tucked the stretcher under his arm and shuffled uncomfortably.

Simmons patted him on the shoulder, biting back a smile. “Oh, Fitz…”

A blush spread across Fitz’s neck. Just as he was about to try and win back some of his dignity, Agent Mackenzie glided onto the stairwell, swooped Kurt onto his back and walked back out towards the Quinjet without a word. The trio exchanged silent glances, and a few cheeky smirks, and then filed out behind him (Daisy whispering something demeaning about Fitz’s masculinity along the way).

Once they were back at the Lighthouse, the crew unloaded their ‘cargo’, taking care not to drop or damage the tar-like cocoon as it was wheeled towards a holding cell in the basement.

“That Hummel Boy” (as Kurt had been dubbed) was carried to FitzSimmons’ lab and left alone. No one wanted to be the one to have _that_ conversation with him, and judging by his response to Anderson’s cocoon, he probably didn’t even know what an inhuman _was_ , let alone understand what it meant for his future…

***

Blaine blinked back the tears; they wouldn’t help him now. But that didn’t ease the rising desperation inside of him. He had been awake for hours, staring at a blank wall, pacing, even singing a bit… and no one had spoken to him yet. He didn’t even know where he was, or why he was there. Was it possible that he had been here his whole life; that his whole world was just a projection and _this_ was reality, bleeding through? He wouldn’t be too surprised. Kurt seemed too good to be true on a bad day.

Kurt. That hit home.

“What am I even doing here!” Blaine exploded at the wall, before sliding down it and breaking down. “Please Kurt… you have to be real… you have to…” His voice caught and he gave up the rest of the sentence. What good would it do when hopelessness had been too quick to settle in.

Everything about him felt different. It was as though every nerve had been uprooted and repositioned, and every cell had been re-written.

 _It feels like puberty all over again,_ Blaine thought morbidly, _only… it’s all happening too quickly…_ Chemicals churned underneath his skin, like light beams dancing along the floor of a paddling pool. Blaine gritted his teeth and rested his head against the wall.

So Kurt was his anchor. If the world was falling apart, Kurt was what he would hold on to. If Blaine was falling apart, Kurt would hold him together.

***

“What dose did you _give_ him?” Simmons queried amazedly, turning away from her clipboard to raise both of her eyebrows at the corner of the room.

Daisy shrugged and motioned to Kurt. “I only shot him twice…”

“Daisy, that was ketamine!”

Daisy looked blank.

Simmons’ face contorted and she gesticulated enthusiastically. “ _Horse_ tranquilliser?”

“But… he has muscles…” Daisy winced. “I thought he’d need a larger…”

“He’s not the Rock!” Simmons cut her off in a tone that had become very high-pitched, very quickly. “I’m not surprised he’s been asleep this long… Poor guy…”

As though on cue (as is often the way for those of the theatrical style) Kurt stirred, groaning grumpily and trying to sit up before opening his eyes. “Blaine, did you let me sleep in again…”

And then he noticed the two (slightly perplexed) faces looking back at him, and the handcuff on his hand.

A piercing scream filled the hallways of The Lighthouse.

“Mr Hummel, Mr Hummel…” Simmons attempted to sooth as Kurt continued to scream, “p-please calm down…”

Kurt looked at her blankly and then opening his mouth again. Daisy and Simmons prepared themselves for another audible attack, but no sound came out except a croak.

“ _Where am—?_ ” Kurt breathed, unable to finish his sentence. Suddenly a darkness filled his eyes, and he scanned their faces, as though expecting to see something he recognised. “Blaine.” He gulped and then looked down at his handcuff in fury. “What have you people done with him?!” he screamed, tears clouding his vision and cooling his burning cheeks.

Simmons was crying now too. This wasn’t exactly how she had hoped this would go.

“Blaine!” Kurt screamed again, overwhelmed by the new faces that were appearing next to the two he had woken up to.

“He’s ok.” Simmons said firmly. “Kurt, he’s ok.”

Kurt’s wide eyes locked with hers, and he stifled a sob.

Deke, Fitz and Mack (who had come running when they heard the screaming) exchanged knowing looks. Daisy pushed them over to one side, leaving Simmons and Kurt out of earshot.

“Do you know something we don’t?” she mumbled, glancing at Kurt and then back at the two (and-a-half, if you include Deke) agents. “About Anderson?”

“He woke up.” Mack looked at the ground. “And now he’s crying.”

“And singing,” Fitz added, monotonally.

“Wait, _singing_?” Daisy asked incredulously, as though this was comparable in abnormality to anything else she had experienced in her life. “What’s he singing?”

“Umm… a few things…” Fitz frowned. “First it was ‘ _Trapped’_ by Colonel Abrams.”

“And then… ‘ _Why Won’t You Talk To Me’_ by Gerry Rafferty…” Mack added.

“Now I think he’s singing _‘F*ck You’_ by Li--”

“Ok, I think I get the point,” Daisy smiled, shaking her head. “He’s got balls, I’ll give him that.”

“He’s also really good,” Fitz nodded slowly, looking at something in the distance. When he noticed the others follow his gaze, he blushed. “Sorry… just kind of drifted there.”

Deke gave a small smile and Daisy rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Mack, who looked deep in thought.

“We have no idea what terrigenesis has done to him – there don’t seem to be any physical symptoms,” Mack sighed gloomily. “And we can’t go in there until we figure it out.”

“We could always send in Deke…” Fitz grinned, earning a well-deserved scowl from Deke. “Just kidding,” Fitz put his hands up in mock surrender, but something about his tone hinted that maybe he wasn’t quite joking.

Daisy untethered herself from the group and walked back over to where Simmons was standing. Seemingly she had calmed Kurt down at least a little bit, as they appeared to be talking about something. Wow, was he… laughing?

Simmons turned her head, noticing Daisy, and giggled. “Kurt was telling me about the time his school choir got pelted with eggs,” she snorted. “Oh god, it shouldn’t be as funny as it is…” Noticing Daisy’s expression, her face darkened.

“I guess I had to be there,” Daisy said, dryly, turning on her heel. “Stay with Hummel, I need to sort something out.”

**TBC…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to saaayy: 
> 
> The timings between what is happening with Blaine, and what is happening with Kurt are not parallel.   
> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Action Figures

“I’ve always been different. I’ve always had people who… who were scared of what I am. But I could get through it. I could get through it because there were people _like_ me. People who understood. People who _loved me_ for what I am… I don’t feel like that now. There’s no one like me. No one will ever be like me. So maybe the only thing to do is to untether myself from the world. To not care what they think. And then there will be no one left to hurt me.”

***

Something glinted in Jemma Simmons eyes as she looked back at Kurt. There was something going on here that they weren’t telling him. Well, quite frankly, they hadn’t really told him anything yet.

“What is it?” he said quickly, regretting the tone of desperation in his voice. If he wanted to find out what was going on here, he was going to have to appear as though he had a hold of himself. “It’s Blaine.” He didn’t ask it as a question, but Simmons replied as though it had been.

“Look, I can’t tell you anything. I’m not in charge here…”

Kurt gave her a dangerous look and Simmons bit her lip. “Ok, fine. I’m not _meant_ to tell you anything… but I guess…” She sighed as though contemplating, and then turned her head towards Fitz who was clenching his jaw in the corner, most likely at something Deke had said. “If it was Fitz I would want to know what was going on. And I would do _anything_ to find out.” She shook her head as though she was amazed by what she was revealing, and, as though in response to this, lowered her voice to an earnest whisper. “Kurt, do you know what an inhuman is?”

Kurt wracked his brain, but couldn’t recall ever hearing the word before. “A… what?”

Simmons chewed on her lip again and bounced her leg nervously. “An inhuman is a person who has had their DNA genetically modified. To put it simply, they go through… changes.”

Kurt looked at her with a mixture of incredulity and puzzlement. “Changes?”

“Superhuman changes…”

Kurt paused, and when he spoke the cynicism in his voice was evident. “Hang on, let me get this straight: you’re telling me Blaine is… a superhero.” He shook his head with a sarcastic laugh, thinking Simmons was playing some kind of cruel joke, and then looked her in the eyes carefully. “You don’t think I would have noticed?” he scoffed finally.

“Look, I think ‘superhero’ is putting it a bit basically,” she huffed. “The inhuman part of Ander— _Blaine’s_ DNA was inactive for most of his life. But something triggered it now. I mean, there are still bits of terrigen crystal floating around, but we thought the threat had almost extinguished itself.” She considered for a second. “You didn’t happen to have an old bottle of fish oil lying around, did you?”

Kurt’s eyes widened, and for the first time he took her seriously. “Fish oil?” he gulped, remembering how he had been so quick to dismiss Blaine when he had told him about his bad reaction to it. “We had this old, unopened bottle from ages ago. I-I… it was _harmless_ …” he noticed the flicker in Simmons eyes and knew his statement was incorrect. “I’ve been giving it to Blaine every day this week.”

Simmons sighed sadly. “Yeah, that would do it.”

“But he’s ok… you told me he was ok…”

“Yes, he was stable before, when he was in his cocoon…” Simmons said vaguely, talking more to herself than to Kurt.

“His what?!” Kurt exclaimed. “Ok, that’s it. I’m not taking any more of this BS seriously until you people let me see him.” Kurt swung his legs over the side of the bed and cast a warning look towards the single handcuff that was shackling him to the bed.

Simmons grimaced and opened her mouth to protest, but luckily Fitz came up behind her and saved her the effort.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Fitz grumbled. “Because you’ll try an’ find Anderson.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the point,” Kurt growled.

“Kurt, we’re doing this to _help_ him,” Simmons sighed kindly.

“You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Jemma,” Fitz grunted. “Daisy and I were fully prepared to leave you on the stairs, thinking Anderson was MIA.”

“That’s what you’re telling people?” Kurt hissed, thinking of the looks on Burt and Pam’s faces when the police showed up at their doors. “And that doesn’t even make sense – Blaine’s never seen any ‘action’ – he’s the most precious, harmless person alive…” his voice cracked. “I had to explain to him that ‘Puff The Magic Dragon’ isn’t really about a dragon…” At that moment Kurt broke down and sobbed melodramatically, “He was so _sad_ when he found out Puff wasn’t a real dragon…” he trailed off, his voice just a shaky breath. “He had made action figures…”

Simmons placed her hand on his shoulder awkwardly and patted it slowly.

Fitz snorted unsympathetically and turned on his heel, calling back “Jemma, I’m checking on Anderson. If he starts breathing fire or grows a pair of wings, I’ll let you know.”

Simmons closed her eyes, bracing herself for the onslaught from Kurt.

But Kurt looked too perplexed to speak (which was unusual for him, as Kurt loved speaking).

“I’m sorry about him,” Simmons gulped, trying to keep her voice light. “I think… I think he’s threatened by you.”

“ _He’s_ threatened?!” Kurt looked gobsmacked. “ _I’m_ the one shackled to a bed! Surrounded by psychos.” When Simmons said nothing, Kurt shook his head slowly. “Look, just tell me one thing. One _sane_ thing I can understand.”

Simmons paused, considering, and then looked down at her buzzing phone, which miraculously provided her answer.

“Blaine’s singing,” she half-frowned, half-laughed. “He’s singing a Julia Stone song…” She looked up at Kurt suddenly. “‘ _What’s Wrong With Me’._ ”


	4. Imperfection

Anderson sat, cross-legged, staring intensely at a point on the wall about 2 inches from his face. He hadn’t moved for about an hour, and Daisy was starting to worry.

He was just a kid, after all; he had no idea what was happening. And they hadn’t exactly provided him with much guidance.

She made up her mind. “I want to talk to him.”

Fitz turned to look at her, shaking his head. “But that goes against protocol. We don’t know what he can do—.”

“—So put up the force-field thing.”

“It might not work on everything. We can’t possibly gauge—.”

“Look, Fitz, honestly right now I don’t care. This kid looks as though he’s going through the five stages of grief!”

They all looked though the monitor at the wall-staring, vacant-looking Blaine.

“I’m pretty sure this stage is bargaining…” Deke offered flatly, without looking away from the monitor.

“Yeah, thanks, Deke,” Fitz huffed and then, showing a hint of interest, “Where did you learn about the Five Stages anyway?”

Deke shrugged and Fitz lost interest.

Sighing, Daisy walked towards the door. She remembered how it had felt for her during the early stages of terrigenesis; it hadn’t been pretty. She had cut all her hair off and learnt how to paint herself in dark make-up. She didn’t want anything like that to happen to this guy; she had taken a liking to him.

Fitz raised an eyebrow as Daisy turned the handle on the door, but didn’t make any moves to try and stop her.

Stopping in the doorway, Daisy turned her head. “Just, keep watching, ok.” She bit her lip. “And if he looks like he’s about to explode…”

“Save your ass?” Deke grinned.

Daisy pouted and then her face went stony. “Actually, I was going to say ‘run’.”

***

The woman entered through a door Blaine didn’t know was there. There was a glass sheet (or something that looked similar) separating them, although the woman held herself with an air of confidence that suggested the barrier was merely a precaution, not something she was hiding behind.

Blaine hadn’t seen her when she had entered – he had been staring at a fixed point on the wall: a crescent moon of blood – his blood – that he had smeared across the white some time before, in order to give himself some perception of imperfection. This room’s sickly flawlessness had made it hard for him to concentrate his thoughts (nothing had a right to be that unspoiled) and so he had created the bloodstain to bring himself back to reality.

Blaine jumped up in shock when he heard the voice, and turned towards it.

“Anderson?” she said unsmilingly.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Blaine gulped, feeling as though he was in an interrogation (maybe he was). “Who are you?”

This time Daisy smiled. He was just a helpless kid – that much was clear from the panic on his face, even though he hid it well. “My name’s Daisy Johnson. I work for an organisation called S.H.I.E.L.D, which stands for something long and boring.”

Blaine frowned, feeling as though the name was familiar – like he had read in a book once, or something. I mean, he had read a lot of books.

“Look, I won’t bore you with the details… I’m pretty sure you’re wondering why you’re here?”

“Actually, I’m kind of wondering where ’here’ is. And… if I could have a sandwich or something.”

Daisy smiled at that. The kid was scared, that much was clear, but he was holding his ground well. Somehow he had managed to take ownership of the holding cell; just by the way he positioned himself. “This is The Lighthouse,” she said vaguely, knowing it wasn’t a satisfying answer.

“Great. Thanks.”

“You’re here because you’re an inhuman,” Daisy said suddenly, without showing any emotion. Then her eyes sparkled a bit. “And because your boyfriend is a fan of vitamins.”

Blaine’s eyes widened, and his breathing sped quickly. “Oh god, please tell me you didn’t drag Kurt into this. No no no…” Blaine started pacing suddenly, swiping his fingers through his hair and cursing at the lack of hair gel. “And what even is an inhuman anyway? Is it like a disease? Am I in quarantine?”

“Anderson, chill.” Daisy pulled a face. “The thing about Kurt was meant to be a joke… I kind of thought you had a sense of humour considering your song choices earlier.”

Blaine stopped pacing and almost smiled. “You got that, did you?”

Daisy nodded. “Kurt is ok. He’s mostly just complaining that he can’t see you… And asking Simmons if she’s met the Queen,” she added as an afterthought. “You’re the one you should be worrying about. Every cell in your body just changed.”

Blaine tried to stop his mouth from falling open, but the effect was somehow more humorous as it opened and closed like a small goldfish staring out at a non-interpretable world.

“Wha-Why? … How…?” Finally Blaine settled on a question. “What’s going to happen to me?” he whispered.

Looking down, Daisy questioned this. What were they going to do with him? If his power was dangerous, they couldn’t just release him back into the world… but they couldn’t just go on forcing every inhuman to become a SHIELD agent…

“I’m not sure,” she murmured finally. “This process is different for everyone.”

“This process?” Blaine threw his hands into the air in exclamation. “What the hell is happening to me?!” Something writhed beneath the surface of his skin, pulsating stronger with ever heartbeat, as though his anger was fighting to escape.

Daisy kept her cool. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. That’s why you’re in there,” she pointed to the floor. “And I’m out here.”

“You think I’m going to hurt people. Oh god… what if I hurt Kurt? I think…” Blaine gagged and ran over to the corner of the room where he ejected any food he had retained from his last meal.

_It definitely doesn’t look perfect in here now,_ his thoughts taunted, as he retreated quickly away from the puddle before allowing himself to breath again. Noticing that Daisy was still there, he blushed a deep red, and tried to avoid her eyes.

“Don’t worry,” she said sullenly, reading his expression, “when I first went through terrigenesis I killed someone.”

At that, she pulled open the hidden door and stepped from the room, leaving Blaine absolutely and completely stunned.


	5. Fear

“I can’t believe you talked to him without my permission!” Mack boomed, and then he lowered his voice to a soft growl. “You know that if you had put up a good enough case I would have said ‘yes’ anyway.”

“I don’t know that. Look, Director, I’m sorry but I had to go with my gut. He’d already defaced the wall with his own blood and I was worried… Any time spent arguing with you might have killed his sanity completely.”

The Director paused, and then shook his head incredulously. “He’s only been in there for two days.”

“And he’s refused to sleep. He was just staring at the wall like a crazy person.”

“And calling out for Kurt,” Deke chimed.

“Why are you even here?” Daisy groaned, scowling at him, motioning to Mack’s private office.

“It’s a free country?” Deke shrugged.

“Says the guy from the future where the entire human race in enslaved…”

  
Daisy and Mack both simultaneously pointed to the door and Deke slumped.

*

The key was inches away. In a moment of thoughtlessness, Simmons had left it there, distracted by something going on in the main ‘ _agenty-room_ ’ (a room that Kurt hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing whilst shackled to his bed).

If he could jut reach… Kurt tiptoed his fingers along the cold surface, stretching out his arm, stretched further… and then grabbed the hoop of the keys with his pinky. Grinning, he pulled the keys towards himself and started testing different ones in the cuffs, glancing around nervously in case anyone came in.

Yes! He found it! The small, silver key slid into the keyhole and clicked pleasantly. Kurt rubbed the thin red cuff burn on his wrist gently, cursing the agents for attaching it so tightly. Swiftly, he moved towards the door and listened. From far off in the distance he could hear shouting – clearly something was going down and people were distracted. That was good.

Sliding into one of the white scientist blazers, he slipped through the door and made his way hastily down the corridor, keeping his head down. In theory, he thought to himself, he would just fit in with everyone else. Unacknowledging people moved past him quickly, caught up in their own drama.

Kurt had been paying attention since he got here, despite acting to the contrary, and had quickly discovered that Blaine was being kept in a sort of basement (creepy, I know). All he had to do was find a way to the ground floor…

A hand grabbed at the cuff of his collar.

“Ahh, what the hell!” he growled, as Daisy quaked him against the nearest wall.

“Why are you out of the lab?” she growled, and then, eyeing up his suspicious get-up, answered her own question. “You know, you and Anderson are real cute, but like _mega_ annoying.”

“Thanks?”

“I just went to visit him, and it was all: ‘Don’t drag Kurt into this’, ‘where’s Kurt’, ‘Is Kurt ok?’” Kurt’s eyes widened and Daisy dropped him just enough that his feet could touch the floor. “So… Are you ok?”

“No.” Kurt scowled, making heavy eye contact. “I need to see him.”

Daisy sighed and released him carefully. “Yeah, that’s what he said too. I guess…” She gritted her teeth, remembering her conversation with Mack. “I need to ask the Director first.”

“And then I can see him?”

“ _Maybe_.”

That was enough for Kurt, at least for now.

*

“Are you letting me see him?” Kurt stood up quickly and made his way over to the two scientists.

Fitz scratched the back of his head and turned to Simmons, giving her a knowing look that said _Daisy’s put us in an awkward situation again…_

“You can talk to him. But we can’t let you go into the room. That’s _really_ important, ok.”

Kurt nodded vaguely, tapping his foot manically. He had to know Blaine was ok. He just had to.

*

The door opened once more, and Blaine turned quickly to look. It was Agent Johnson again. He pushed away the hope that it would have been Kurt. He knew they were lying about Kurt being here. They just didn’t want him to worry. But Blaine _was_ worried, and he really didn’t trust these people.

“How are you doing?” Daisy smiled. “I see they cleaned up the sick for you after all.”

“And I got my sandwich,” Blaine snorted. “Although I was a little surprised when it arrived by hovercraft.”

“Ah, yeah… FitzSimmons do tend to get a bit over excited when it comes to things like this.”

Blaine thought for a second, and then shook his head. “No, it’s good. I don’t want to hurt anyone. Not even the person who put mayo in my sandwich… I _hate_ mayo,” he grinned – that was his way of deflecting.

“We’re letting you see him,” she said suddenly, and Blaine’s heart leapt about 50ft. “Kurt.”

Eyes widening in shock, Blaine stammered, “I thought you were lying… K-Kurt’s actually here?”

At that, Daisy waved her hand and the door clicked open behind her. A very ragged, tired-looking Kurt entered, scowling slightly at Daisy until he noticed Blaine. His face changed instantly, any sign of anguish diminishing.

“Blaine,” he breathed, taking in his crumpled, dishevelled appearance.

“Kurt, I’m ok,” he said immediately, knowing Kurt well enough to expect his panic.

“What do you mean, _I’m ok_?” Kurt growled, and then his tone softened. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“I know, I know. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was on the stairs, the next minute I was…” Blaine looked at his toes, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“Changing.”

Blaine looked up at him quickly, his eyes darting around nervously. “You know.”

“I don’t know anything. At least, nothing that makes any sense. They said it was the fish oil… that it triggered some kind of DNA change…? That you’ve become…?”

Blaine hung his head. “Inhuman.”

“But what does that _mean_. What does that mean for you?”

“I don’t know. Nothing’s different about me that I can see, but… I _feel_ different. Like there’s something boiling up inside me that’s about to explode.”

Daisy grimaced at that, remembering her earlier conversation with Deke and Fitz. She really hoped he _wasn’t_ about to explode, but she’d seen it before.

“Well, if you can’t see a change, maybe… maybe you’re ok?”

“Unless it’s not a physical change,” Daisy grated. The two men turned to look at her, swiftly remembering she was there. “Eventually we’re going to have to test it…”

“What?” Blaine gulped. “No, I can’t do that. I can’t do that.”

“Well it’s either that or you stay in there forever.”

“I can’t just risk hurting someone I don’t know!”

Kurt and Blaine caught eyes and shared a meaningful look. There was a pause while Blaine blinked in astonishment, and then all hell exploded.

“Oh, _god no_! Kurt, no way!” Blaine flailed his arms around, his jaw tightening almost to the point of pain.

“Blaine! I can’t just let you stay locked in there!” Kurt squeaked.

“I’m not testing my… _freakiness_ on you! I’m _not_ doing it. DAISY! I take it all back. I’ll do it! I will. On _anyone_ but Kurt—”

“—Don’t you pull that on me Blaine Anderson! Don’t talk to her as though I’m not here! This is my fault anyway because of those stupid vit—”

“It is NOT your fault!”

“GUYS!” Daisy inhaled slowly, gritting her teeth. “Chill _out_.”

They looked at her sheepishly, and then at the ground. “I know this is really scary. I’ve been there.” She shook her head at Kurt and then nodded towards the scary white room. “You’re not going in there. It’s against protocol, anyway.”

Kurt scoffed. “Protocol. Right.”

“ _Thank you_ , Daisy. That _is_ a relief.” It was sarcastic, but the relief was real. Blaine gave a little bow to match his sarcasm, and Kurt’s heart fluttered. To this day, small little actions like that were enough to set Kurt’s heart racing. He felt sick to his stomach at the idea of Blaine being trapped in a cell for the rest of his life, just because no one was brave enough to test a theory. He rolled his shoulders back, attempting to ease the tension in his muscles, and then leant towards the door.

A siren screamed above them, and Kurt flew through the door and into the white room. Daisy stood frozen, clearly unsure as to what the ‘protocol’ was in this situation. Making a decision, she slammed the door behind Kurt and locked it quickly.

“Kurt! What are you doing?” Blaine screamed, backing away from him as though he was carrying an infection.

“Saving your life. Because no one else is going to.” Kurt reached out his hand, attempting to touch him, but Blaine was too fast for him and bolted to the other end of the room. Kurt stamped his foot and grimaced. “Blaine. Stop being ridiculous. We’re not playing _‘It’_.”

“We’re not _playing_ anything.” Blaine retorted. “This is your life you’re risking here. Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes and edged towards Blaine, almost imperceptibly. “Because I love you. And I’m selfish… I can’t bear to be without you. Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”

Blaine shrugged at the ground, knowing that Kurt already knew the answer to that question. But in the second that he was distracted, Kurt had already covered the distance across the room and had grabbed Blaine’s hand.

“Kurt!” Blaine gasped, attempting to prize his hand off, but then realising he was making even more contact by doing so.

Daisy fidgeted outside uncomfortably. “Hummel. That’s really not a good idea.”

But in his distraction, Kurt heard neither of them. The second his hand had made contact with Blaine’s skin, he had felt it: a pulsating, warm feeling. That feeling spread throughout Kurt’s body, like a seat warmer in a car (or, more unpleasantly, like a pee in your pants in the ocean), filling every corner of his body with a single feeling. And that feeling was fear: unparalleled, unfamiliar and totally illogical fear.

Kurt drew back his hand and backed away, glancing down at Blaine with wide eyes. “What…?”

“Kurt? Oh god? Kurt?!”

And then Kurt fainted.


End file.
